


I'll Be Gone When You Wake Up

by theZanyArthropleura



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Interior Decorating, Not Team Talon, Post-Doomfist, Post-Recall, Symbra if you squint, Unrequited Friendship, staying the night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 23:35:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17876909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theZanyArthropleura/pseuds/theZanyArthropleura
Summary: After Akande's triumphant (and violent) return to Talon, Sombra volunteers to help Widowmaker move in to her new on-base quarters. Things have changed, but not as much as Sombra had hoped.





	I'll Be Gone When You Wake Up

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this as a prologue to my longer fic _I Know Everything About You_ , but I'm not sure how well it fits with that canon since an event at the end of this story should have probably taken place a bit earlier on the timeline than Doomfist.

“Is this some sort of joke?” Widowmaker hissed as she pushed open the door to a rather large and spacious room. Light poured in through a window on the far wall, illuminating a large wooden cupboard, the doors to several adjoining rooms, the stained hardwood floorboards, and the very edge of a decorative rug that carpeted the half of the room that was still in relative darkness.

“If it is, sign me up for the next one,” Sombra snarked with a hint of annoyance as she switched on the lights, “This is nicer than _my_ room.”

The ceiling lights flickered on, revealing a fancy covered bed, a decorative wooden dresser in the same style as the cupboard, and a more modern-looking black computer desk with a swivel chair. There was even a computer terminal – one Sombra suspected had very limited access, alas.

Akande had obviously spared no expense, but from Widowmaker’s reaction, it was doubtful he actually knew the sniper’s preferences very well. He’d probably just taken one look at the Chateau and figured she still liked all that stuff. To be fair, Sombra might have thought the same thing, and she still wasn’t convinced the sniper’s reaction didn’t have more to do with the style’s intrusion on her workspace than its presence in general.

It was a nice thought, at least. Ever since Talon’s former leader had wrested back control of the organization, he had held Widowmaker in especially high regard, even getting her involved front-and-center in his little rebellion. Sombra still wasn’t quite sure how she felt about Akande, but this, at least, had earned him some amount of the hacker’s respect and gratitude. It had pained her more than she would have ever admitted to watch Talon’s interim leadership treat Widowmaker like she was nothing but a weapon or a piece of tech. Akande at least seemed to see her as a _person_ , and had decided she should have an actual room at the base like the other top agents.

“What am I supposed to do with _any_ of this?” Widowmaker asked with stunned confusion in her voice.

“ _Enjoy_ it, _amiga_ ,” Sombra answered, spreading her arms and gesturing widely with a mischievous grin. “Consider it a taste of the finer things in life.”

“I do not require this… _luxury_.” Widowmaker nearly spat out the word. “It is _excessive_.”

Sombra walked over to the window. “Oh, you have a great view, you know! You can appreciate _that_ at least, can’t you?”

“I suppose,” the sniper began as she walked over to stand near Sombra, and the hacker’s heart nearly rose before she continued. “If we are taken by surprise, it will be an effective vantage point.”

“Of _course_.” Sombra sneered, laughing quietly to herself to mask the flood of disappointment. “It’s always so much _business_ with you, _amiga_.” She shook her head, latching onto the bitter irony of it all to keep herself smiling. “All this just for you and you can’t even enjoy it.”

“You can push all you want, Sombra,” Widowmaker began with stern annoyance, “I do not feel this _enjoyment_. I feel nothing at all toward this excess, toward _anything_.”

“Are you _sure_ about that?” Sombra said mischievously, resting her hand on Widowmaker’s shoulder before running her fingers down the cold, purple-blue skin of her arm. She made sure to inject the gesture with traces of seduction and intimidation to mask its affection, as she watched closely and _desperately_ for any kind of reaction from the woman.

Sombra’s heart skipped a beat. There it was. A tiny twitch of muscle. Hints of shock and confusion entered Widowmaker’s expression. Sombra had the beginnings of a warm smile.

Widowmaker sneered in disgust, pulling away as Sombra’s heart sank. “It seems I am overdue for reconditioning. I will schedule an appointment for this evening.”

“God forbid you have any _fun_ with your life,” Sombra chided as she rolled her eyes, flourished her fingers in the air, and turned casually away from Widowmaker to keep the woman from seeing the heartbreak on her face.

“ _Fun_ is not within my mission parameters,” Widowmaker sneered as she turned to leave.

“Tomorrow!” Sombra called out as non-desperately as she could manage, as she caught the sniper by the shoulder again. The mischievous grin had returned to her face. “We still have to finish moving you in.”

They returned to the hallway, where several boxes rested on a small cart. They brought the boxes – filled with Widowmaker’s impossibly few possessions – into the room as Sombra tried to guess where everything should go. She suspected most people never had to ask the question of where in a master bedroom to stockpile venom mines, so they ended up in the bottom drawer of the dresser, the middle drawer containing the sniper’s shoulder pad, grapple gauntlet, and sliding, spiderlike recon visor. Widowmaker gently placed the _Widow’s Kiss_ in the top drawer along with its ammunition, as Sombra moved on to stocking the large cupboard.

“There is no _way_ this can be comfortable,” Sombra said as she held up one of the sniper’s uniforms, giving the large plunging gap through the center of the garment an odd, pained look.

“I do not require comfort,” Widowmaker said matter-of-factly.

It was such an odd thing to say that the woman’s tone while saying it made Sombra burst out in laughter. She was thankful for that laugh, for all the hurt it concealed.

It was close to sunset by the time they finished, and Widowmaker closed the automated, reinforced blinds over the window. “I should rest,” she began, “I would like to be awake as little as possible until tomorrow.”

“ _Hasta luego_ , I guess,” Sombra said as she gave the woman a devious grin, sullen on the inside as she turned and made for the door. Then something occurred to her.

“Somebody should watch you,” Sombra said suddenly a she turned back around, “you know, to make sure you don’t run off or something.” She grinned as she pretended to examine her nails.

Widowmaker froze. There was a strange, _lost_ look in her eyes that gave Sombra the urge to reach out and hold her tightly. Her programming still had enough of a hold on her that she would never have said ‘yes’ to the idea of Sombra spending the night, but as predicted, she couldn’t bring herself to say ‘no’ either.

Sombra held her hand near the switch as Widowmaker climbed rather awkwardly into bed, frustration evident on her face. Once the hacker turned off the overhead lights, the two were illuminated only by a faint blue glow from the dim lights near the computer. Sombra pulled the swivel chair up to the bedside, resting her arm along the edge as her eyes met Widowmaker’s.

“It’s okay, _amiga_ , I’ll be gone when you wake up,” She said as she noted the nearly-undetectable look of concern on the sniper’s face.

Widowmaker’s fingers held the edges of the sheets oddly, seeming to revel in the texture. She had an odd expression, perhaps of interest, as her eyes started to drift closed.

“ _Adiós_ ,” Sombra said softly as she tried to keep the tears out of her eyes just long enough for the woman to fall unconscious.

She didn’t know why she tortured herself like this.

Actually, she did. Those fleeting moments were the only thing that had been keeping her going for a while now. The only comfort she had to look forward to in the lonely, fucked-up life she led. The life she had no _choice_ but to lead. She winced as a familiar image burned itself again in her mind, staring deep into her thoughts as the feeling of being watched crept up her spine.

Sombra shook herself out of the memory, resting her eyes on the cold, blue woman who had fallen asleep in front of her. This was as peaceful as she would ever be. It was a bitter irony that one of the only people in Sombra’s life that she could _truthfully_ call a friend would only on rare occasion return her affection, then immediately do everything she could to stifle it.

She longed to do something for the poor woman, but it was a stupid and foolish thought. It wasn’t any of her business, really, and Sombra needed Talon much more than they needed her. She would have to let it go, but she couldn’t _stand_ to see her live like this. She could never stand to see _anyone_ live like this.

Something occurred to Sombra, and she made sure Widowmaker was in a deep sleep before projecting some of her screens in the air around her. The purple glow mixed with the dim blue light as she looked through her files from the LumériCo hack. With a wave of her hand, she brought up her catalogue of the corporation’s known associates, and finally, Vishkar’s personnel files floated before her.

Sombra stared into the eyes of the stern-faced Indian woman, pained as she wondered just how aware she was of what Vishkar was doing to her. She brought up the email she’d bookmarked, the incriminating one.

_From: Korpal, Sanjay_

_Subject: RE: Clarification – Conditioning Techniques_

No one would know if she did it, not even Sanjay. She’d made sure of that. She’d hovered over that message long enough to have pre-programmed the whole thing, covering her tracks several times over. It would look like an accident.

Another window appeared, the shape of her familiar sugar skull overlaid with the bolded words, ‘SEND MESSAGE?’ underscored with a simple Y/N prompt. A finishing touch Sombra had adapted from a bit of code she’d found in the dump of junk files Athena had seen fit to flood her systems with the last time she’d hacked Overwatch.

She could help _someone_. She could show _this_ woman what they were doing to her. Ruining Sanjay’s day would just be icing on the cake. She knew it was a lie to tell herself it would make her feel any better about her own situation, but if she was being honest, she was well past the point of caring.

She took one last look at Widowmaker sleeping beside her, hurting for the tortured soul she could never free from its icy bonds. Sombra grimaced a familiar, twisted smirk in resigned bitterness at the world’s unending cruelty, turned back to her waiting screens, and defiantly struck a long fingernail through the ‘Y’ button.


End file.
